The washer and dryer incident

I have actually had requests to tell this story in all its glory. I can honestly say this is one the worst moments in my accident prone life. Falling off a bed or dragging toilet paper on my shoe has nothing on this.

One day in late April both the washer and dryer die an untimely death. I had broken the Do Not Covet Thy Sister’s Front Loaders rule a couple of years earlier and had been begging for my own set ever since. Being the romantic devil that he is, my husband bought me a set for Mother’s Day.

He also just happens to be out of town when the purchases arrive. He swears up and down he paid for them to be installed, but they were just left in my laundry room when I got home from work. I have no idea how to install a washer and dryer. I am a Junior Leaguer. Mind you I have a mountain of dirty clothes waiting to be washed. Hubby is not due home for another three days, so I embark on the adventure myself.

At one point the kids asked, “Mommy, Why is there water all over the floor?” and “Why are you crying?” I had no idea how hard it would be to hook up water. I finally got a load washed at about 2:00 A.M. I thought the dryer would be simple. I was wrong.

I get the kids off to school early and make a trip out to a box store where I purchase some special thingy to make my 1930’s home and the new dryer friends. I run home because I have to get to work and decide the dryer can wait until I finish working. I of course make a small attempt to unscrew the plate on the bottom of the backside of the dryer, but those things were heavy! I was tired and worn out from wrestling the washer all night, and needed a shower.

I get partially undressed when I say enough is enough. I will not let this washer and dryer get the best of me. I have a college education. I can do this!

Bullshit.

I had one leg in between the washer and dryer while the other leg was on top of the dryer. I had to leverage myself so I could drape the top half of my body behind the dryer in order to unscrew the back plate. All was good until my foot that was in between the two appliances slipped on the tile floor still wet from last nights washing machine fiascos. My body landed in the exceptionally small space in between the washer and dryer with my left hip on the floor, my arms up in an awkward position, and my back twisted. I cannot move. I cannot even lift myself up because I have no leverage. I am stuck.

Let me just set the scene for you. There is a hideously embarrassing amount of dirty laundry everywhere. Any woman would be humiliated if someone saw it. I am wearing a thin white t-shirt with no bra and my favorite panties. They have large red and white horizontal stripes and are so old they are actually paid for. Neighbors behind us are out of town as well as the husband. Kids are at school and since it is not payday, my office staff has no reason to look for me.

We had new neighbors move into the house next to us a couple of weeks earlier and I knew they were home, but I had only met them once. “I have been meaning to bring over a casserole but could you help pry me out of here while politely ignoring my Cat in the Hat panties?” I think I will just rot here thank you very much.

After two hours of intermittently rocking my body back and forth in order to slowly move the heavy appliances, I was free. I told my best friend about it later in the afternoon. She tried to get out the words “I’m sorry” while she was laughing but never quite finished the phrase.

Thank you for reading my post and I hope you feel better about yourself.